


(We're Not) Sorry We Said Fuck So Much

by beedekka



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: Immediately Post-Canon, M/M, Watersports, Yuleporn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beedekka/pseuds/beedekka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing left for Harry to do except wrap up the narration.  Well, apart from his actual job, and winding up Perry, and having sex with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(We're Not) Sorry We Said Fuck So Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chamilet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamilet/gifts).



> It was a lot of fun to be able to dive into Yuleporn territory for this one - thank you for the request, chamilet, and Happy Yuletide! I hope you enjoy it :)

“Now go, vanish!” Perry reached forward and flipped the switch on the camera, letting Harry swivel the chair and duck out from the impromptu gag-hold he’d put him in. “You’re still talking to those guys?” Perry asked him. “That’d better be the last time – you spend more time explaining shit to them than you do actually working.”

“I had to tell them all about how I came to be here. Urgh—” Harry paused to wipe his mouth. “Did you just scrub your hands with sanitizer? My mouth tastes like I kissed a hospital floor! It doesn’t make proper sense otherwise: why would you hire me – an ex-con with a bad track record in both the personal and professional arena, not to mention an overly-casual approach to office attire – to be Executive PA at Centron Inc? They’re gonna be thinking, ‘Well, there’s obviously some kind of backstory to _that_ one.’”

Perry shrugged. “The backstory is, I’m fucking the shit out of you, and nepotism is rife in LA. Tell it how it is.”

“That’s not how it is,” Harry replied indignantly, earning himself a raised eyebrow in response. “Okay, that is pretty much how it is, but also there are other things that it’s important to know, like how we were thrown together by the Dexter case and grudgingly came to respect and trust each other, and how you were impressed with my adaptability under pressure and slick manual dexterity.”

Perry turned around and leant against the desk in front of Harry, crossing his legs at the ankle and folding his arms. “You remember the events of last Christmas very differently to me, my friend. That is what they call ‘unreliable narration’, and while it _is_ generically acceptable in this instance, I think it makes a far more entertaining story if you just tell ‘em that I was impressed with your dick and ass, and we willingly came together thanks to your manual dexterity.”

“That’s crude, and it is not how I’m telling the story,” Harry told him.

“No? How about this, is this crude?” Perry accompanied his question by palming over the outline of his own cock with the hand he’d just had over Harry’s mouth, shifting the well-tailored material of his pants taut to show him the beginnings of a semi.

“It’s very crude, and if I hadn’t been drinking and smoking at your desk all afternoon in a way that flagrantly violates workplace professionalism myself, I’d be writing you up for inappropriate behaviour right now.”

“Go on and report me to the boss; I’m all ears.”

Harry’s attention had already been thoroughly directed to the way the cloth was stretching over the bulge at Perry’s crotch, and he didn’t make a reply to that line, just leaned back in the chair to give himself a little bit more room. It prompted a chuckle from his lover, and he could guess where this was going to go next.

Sure enough, Perry glanced over his shoulder and groped backwards for the heavy glass ashtray and the whiskey bottle and tumbler that were on the desk, pushing them away to the edges of the surface and clearing the space. “Why don't you stand up and kiss me?” he invited, shifting to sit properly on the desk so that when Harry made the move, he could pull him forwards into the gap between his legs and then manoeuver them both down until they were making out over the desktop. Harry’s breath caught as their lips met, and the quality of Perry’s practiced kissing was almost enough to make him forgive and forget the stupid beard he’d been wearing lately.

“Mmm,” Perry murmured into his mouth, hands starting to roam up and under Harry’s shirt, feeling out the compact curves and angles of his body. The first attempt saw his arms get tangled up between the two layers of the long-sleeve shirt and the t-shirt over the top of it, and he made a more exasperated sound. “Did you time travel into work from the 1990s today?”

“Says the man who has multiple – that’s _more than one_ – velour track suits in his wardrobe.”

“At least one of those would have a zipper.” Perry fumbled his hands out from the material and settled for running them over Harry’s denimed ass instead, kneading and pulling him close so that their clothed erections rubbed hard against each other. The friction made Harry squirm; half in response to the sparks of pleasure it set off in the pit of his stomach and half from the awkward constriction of his jeans. “I want to take all of this off and suck you right here at the desk,” Perry continued. “Or on the couch…”

“Sounds good,” Harry told him. “Uh, I do have to pee first though.” He expected a crack back about the fact he’d spent all afternoon drinking whiskey when he should have been working, but instead he saw a distinct flash of excitement sweep across Perry’s expression. “Oh,” Harry exclaimed, catching on fast. “Then this is a perfect time to do the… the thing with… that you… This would be an ideal time for me to piss on you, right?”

“You expressed it so eloquently,” Perry deadpanned. “However, I'm not going to turn it down if you're offering.”

“Yeah, why not?” Harry shrugged. He hadn’t quite tapped into whatever vibe it was about the whole bathroom thing that Perry got off on so much, but after a couple of times of seeing how it seemed to turn him inside out with pleasure, he’d filed it away as just another random funky foible in the endless list of ‘things people can combine with sex’ – one that didn’t cost him any particular embarrassment to engage in (…well, except for that one time when he’d accidentally peed on someone’s corpse, but that wasn’t a sex thing), and netted him a big return in the form of his lover's reaction.

They moved from the office area to the bathroom off the lounge, which – as a perk of having the locus of Perry’s business at his actual home – meant it was more of a fancy wetroom than a toilet, and also that stripping off and discarding their clothes all over the couches and the floor as they went wasn’t as anti-social a workplace behaviour as it would otherwise have been. By the time they were inside the mosaic-tiled, seashell-inlayed room, they were both naked and Harry was grabbing and pulling Perry tight up against him.

They kissed again, hard and heavy, and Harry knew that he was already reaping the reward for his watersports suggestion; Perry was all hands and lips and hot breath against his skin, body practically thrumming with anticipation. “You ready?” Harry broke off to gasp.

“Uh huh,” Perry responded. Harry wanted to ask him who was being so eloquent now, but instead he put a hand on his partner’s shoulder to guide him down to his knees in front of him. Then he took hold of his dick, flicking it a few times to relieve some of the aching hardness that their passionate kissing had prompted. He’d gotten pretty good at working out the angles so he didn’t just miss completely when he had to aim up, but this was a below-the-neck deal for Perry, and Harry got enough grumbling for exposing him to his second hand smoke to want to risk his second hand alcohol getting in the mix. “Stay still,” he warned. “I’m gonna go…”

“Oh god, yeah,” Perry urged him on, eyes fixed on the tip of Harry’s dick, and thighs trembling with anticipation. “That's so fucking hot.” The sudden breathlessness of his voice was like a laser burst to Harry’s arousal and they both watched as his dick twitched and thickened up again between his fingers.

“Fuck,” Harry scolded him gently. “We’ll be here forever if you keep saying shit like that. Stop acting so goddamn fuckable. You’re confusing my… whatever muscles are responsible for what my dick’s doing.”

“Your ischiocavernosus muscles,” Perry supplied distractedly, rocking back on his heels like he could hardly keep in one place.

“ _My_ …? I can’t believe you know that!” Harry bit his lip and willed his erection to relax a little. “Just a tiny bit, and I can get this going.”

“Come _on_.” Perry was obviously barely resisting the urge to jerk off now, fingers slipping over and squeezing his hard cock as he stared at Harry. “Fucking piss on me, already.”

And then he was, splashing Perry’s bare chest with a stream that ran obscenely down his abs and soaked his neatly trimmed pubic hair in seconds. Harry watched Perry’s grip on his own cock tighten as the piss ran over his hand, and from the way his other arm shook as he braced his weight against the tiles behind him, Harry could tell he was riding a wave of adrenalin with it. “You can stroke yourself for me,” he heard himself blurting out, and was surprised when Perry took him up on that without a word.

The stream was already tapering off, but the effect had been achieved, and it didn’t take too many more moments before Perry was moaning and spilling come all over his wet fist, sending it dripping down to intermingle with the puddle on the wetroom floor in the space between his thighs and knees. It was such an arresting image that Harry found his own breathing getting harsh by the time he was shaking the last drops from the tip of his now absolutely rigid cock. “Sweetest holy fuck,” he managed. “That is way more sexy than you in a pool of piss has any right to be.”

Perry sat back on his heels and gave him a satisfied grin. “Hit the shower dial and I’ll do something else to make you swear like that at me.”

Harry did, and they both flinched at the initial burst of cold before the heat came through and the steaming water rinsed away all the slick and sticky rivulets and splashes from their skin. Harry stared down dumbly as Perry laughed and pulled the band out from around his ponytail, shaking his hair free and skimming his fingers through it and over his face to deflect the spray from his eyes. Then he reached for Harry and grasped him firmly by the dick, pulling him further under the cascading water and leaning in to take him in his mouth.

Perry was just as practiced at this bit as he was at the kissing, having zeroed straight in on all the little moves and tricks that had drawn a shudder or a gasp from Harry the first time he tried them, and he'd mercilessly replicated them every time he wanted to execute a big finish ever since. If the shower hadn’t been drowning out Harry's voice enough that even _he_ couldn’t follow the stream of consciousness he was spouting, he would have been open to admitting that some very unfiltered observations were coming out, and that Perry was absolutely right about his ability to wring a succession of choice expletives from him. Then he felt him go for the deepthroat and pretty much went off like the Fourth of July into his mouth, Perry gripping his hips quickly to hold him still.

By the time he came back down and started to pay proper attention to the world around him again, Perry was already on his feet and dragging the soap over himself. “Good?” he asked Harry.

“Um, yeah, I think that was one for the books. Or in other words, I’m going to dry myself off now and go and lie down on the couch for a really long time.”

“See, this is how our productivity level gets flat-lined,” Perry replied, circling on the spot to rinse the bubbles away. “You spend your working day narrating things that we’ve already finished with, distracting the one of us that does _actual_ work by proposing filthy sex, and then knock off early to nap on the couch.”

Harry gave his best affronted look. “That is not true. I do not spend all my time narrating… Okay, that might be accurate, but that’s the only part. And maybe the bit about napping, which is only because of all the sex _that I think you’ll find was initiated by YOU on this occasion.”_

Perry smiled and turned away from the spray to get a towel, and that was about as close to conceding a point as he was likely to get, so Harry chalked that one up to himself and twisted the shower off behind them.

Once they were dry again and out in the lounge gathering up their hastily discarded clothes, Harry went over to the desk to grab the camera too, one last time.

“I thought you were going to sleep now?” Perry said immediately. “Are you speaking to them again?”

“I have to amend the message we gave to the good folks of the Midwest; if they were going to be upset by our frank and salty language then what we’ve just done is nuclear levels of scandalizing.” Harry flopped backwards onto the couch, holding the camera inelegantly up over his face. “Hey, it’s us again.”

“Hi,” Perry chimed in from across the room, fastening his shirt in the mirror.

“Just in case you stuck around to see if there was a post-credits sequence and then it was this and you’re from Iowa, um… we’re additionally sorry that we actually fucked so much.”

“Except we’re not really.”

“… No, no, I guess now I’m thinking about this, he’s right on that one. Yeah, okay… so disregard that amendment after all.”

The camera jerked out of his hand as Perry took it off him again, peering into the lens.

“See, this is why I should do this part. He’s bad at finishing. We’re done here – _now_ go, vanish!”

 

_Click._


End file.
